A Prayer Unheard
by Makiie
Summary: The story of the woman that Bella saw while fleeing from the tower room in Volterra. Please forgive me for any linguistic errors. [[one shot]] [DRASTICALLY REWRITTEN]


**UPDATED A/N: **I've been meaning to rewrite this for some time, but I'm not sure it came out any better, if anything it might be worse. I don't really know, it's been so long since I first wrote it, and so long since I've written anything.

Not going to give any excuses as to why I haven't written recently, as it would fill up an entire story of its own. Just know that I'm back, sort of.

Other than that, I ask you to read and review.

**A/N: **I really don't know what inspired me to write this. Possibly my own remorse at the fact that I can't update anything I want to because all the documents are on my broken laptop. But then again, I wanted to give the woman who Bella sees a history, a name, a family who'll miss her.

I apologize in advance for any linguistic errors made, I do not speak Italian, nor will I claim to. I used babelfish for all my translations.

I also apologize for the general lack of quality and brevity, I wrote this hastily and at 2 AM this morning.

**Disclaimer: **I will not pray for the rights to Twilight, for there is no god who would take them from their rightful owner, Mrs. Stephenie Meyer.

Her name was Mariana Giovanni. She was seventy-two.

Her son in law, daughter, and three grandchildren that had been waiting for her would never know what had happened to her. The ones who took her from them would not allow it, for it was their duty to hide these things, and years had made them quite good at it. It was unfortunate, that her family had not lived in Volterra, perhaps then Mariana might have been spared. But perhaps, it would not have made a difference, for fate is like that. Change one event, and while the path to the conclusion will change, there can be no change in an already written ending.

"Pardon me signorina, dove è Fontania Pretoria?" were the words that had sent her to this hell. How innocent they were, how innocent she had been. She had lived a good life, and now looked forward to being with her only daughter and grandchildren. The petty anger she had felt towards her son in law for taking her daughter away to the city had been replaced with a grudging respect, for he had made good on his promise to give Francesca a good life had been fulfilled. It was how she ended up in this city, this unfamiliar place filled with tall buildings of classic stone and foreign metal, this place packed with people that made her feel so alone. She was lost here, desperately she had been searching for the place that had been set for her family to meet her. She had been born in Palermo, but deep in the surrounding countryside. The city was confusing and hectic to the simple woman.

The woman had been polite, despite her inappropriate clothing, replying in flawless Italian, "Lo conosco, lo seguo. Dò un giro della città e Fonatania Pretoria è una parte di esso."

If only she had walked away, if only she had politely said no, perhaps she would've seen her daughter's face one last time.

The truth was that she was old and surely, death would come soon, but really, did she deserve such a lonely death? Didn't karma pay off in someway? Someway where she would die quietly in her sleep, in a warm bed, with nothing to fear?

Mariana had been apprehensive about this woman, but she was still early, despite being lost, she had time to see the city. Despite the terror she felt at the sheer size and grandeur of it, she was fascinated. She hadn't thought the woman to be a demon, and besides, her rosary that the priest had blessed and anointed with the _acqua santa _would protect her. _Padre_ would protect her.

But this was a day where her many prayers would go unheard, this was a day when _Padre _would have to turn a deaf ear and forget the devotion she had shown him, for the entity of fate that led her to this horrid end could not be fought, it seems.

So, with the rosary clutched tightly in her hand, and with the whispers of prayers that would be ignored, she had followed the woman. How silly for her to trust her, how silly for her to have faith in her, it was this outdated belief of the general goodness of people that would bring her to her end. The woman had introduced herself as Heidi, and led her through a complicated maze of streets, picking up more and more people. She sometimes spoke in a language unknown to Mariana, she said things like 'come with me for fun' once to a man who obviously was _no buon. _Mariana began to grow more and more scared as Heidi continued. But still, Mariana could not bring herself to doubt the obviously good intentions of Heidi. They had to be good, for all people were inherently good, weren't they?

She did point out sights, which made Mariana believe the lie she told herself, that Heidi really was a tour guide. For she would say little things about the places they passed in multiple languages. People took pictures of them and made appreciative noises. Heidi then led them to a bus.

This was where Mariana protested. Her resolve had slowly been wavering, despite the way Heidi had seemed to back up her claims. If only she could have put less faith into her rosary, less faith into the lie she repeated to herself even now.

"Per favore Heidi, devo andare a Fontania Pretoria," she had pleaded. She had decided she wanted no more of this tour, she wanted to see her daughter, she must surely be late by now, they must be worried, waiting for her.

"Non preoccupi signora, questo bus li prenderà là. Non desiderate a camminate finora?" she told her, trying to soothe the old woman. She accidentally let a pale finger touch Mariana's hand. The icy coldness shocked her, repelled her. She knew now that she was in the company of a demon, she knew now that she would never see her daughter's face again.

Mariana had no choice now. She was too far from the crowds of tourists to find someone to help her, and besides, what good would mortals do against a demon such as this? What if she brought more people to this danger? No, she couldn't. She must rely on _Padre _to protect her. He would protect her, as he always had. He would remember her devotion to him. Surely he would. Her fingers touched each worn down bead on the rosary, calling on the saints for guidance.

None came.

Because soon, they were leaving Palermo, 'to a new city' Heidi had said. Mariana knew not what it meant, but knew now for sure that she would not see her family. She prayed desperately though, her fingers caressing the beads even more, even harder, even faster, hoping that her prayers would be heard and answered if she asked the saints just one more time, if she showed true devotion. Such a pity they weren't.

The rosary had been her mother's, and had been passed on to her. It was a dark wood, the beads and cross rubbed smooth from repeated handling. It still held the faint smell of her mother's rosewater, battling past the strong earthy smell of the wood. Besides her daughter, it was the most precious thing she had. Before leaving for the city, the priest had blessed it for her, had poured the _acqua santa _on it.

It had done no good.

When they reached the new city, Maribella tried once again, speaking desperately to the other people with her. Again, that outdated belief in inherent goodness. All of them looked at her as she were _schiuma _beneath their feet

All the way into the tower she begged people, "Per favore, per favore, devo andare a Fontania Pretoria. Per favore, la mia famiglia sta aspettandolo."

Still, they looked at her as if she didn't exist, pushing her gnarled hands away from them in disgust. She soon gave up as they finally entered the place. She had accepted that she would die now, but she couldn't help taking hold of the rosary, sending still more pleas to _Padre _that he would protect her, would forgive whatever sins she had done and protect her.

As she entered, her dark eyes met the chocolate brown ones of a young girl, _un bambino _still. Her eyes were terrified. But not for her own sake, for Mariana's. How strange, this girl was. Perhaps that outdated belief of inherent goodness was not so far away from truth.

"Welcome," the terrifyingly beautiful man said. He was perfect, flawless, just like Heidi. It terrified her. This was a haven of demons surely, welcoming her to their hell. Mariana did not feel welcomed. She was scared now, terror pulsing through her. Others around her smiled and took even more pictures. Some seemed confused, but they said nothing, did nothing. How foolish they were, could they not see the danger! Why did they not run when they had the chance? She wished to scream to them, but she knew that no one would listen.

She sent out one last prayer now, not for herself, but for the girl.

_Per favore Padre, protegge questa ragazza. È ancora un bambino. Se non lo proteggerete, proteggala._

She heard the first scream, a young woman with dark brown hair and dancing green eyes who had bounced a baby boy on her lap in the bus, and prayed with all her heart.

Prayed that this was a nightmare she would wake up from.

Her prayers went unheard.

Now someone was approaching, to kill her, she knew this was why whoever it was came, her eyes frantically searched for anyone but the one who approached, she did not want to see their face, did not want her last thoughts to be of hatred or fear or pity or whatever she would feel when she saw who it was. Her eyes locked once more with the chocolate eyed girl again, leaving hell, led by an angel from the demons of his own kind. Her last thoughts were of gratefulness.

For at least one prayer was heard.

**Translations:**

Fontania Pretoria is a fountain/town square sort of place in Palermo, Italy, which supposedly is not far from Volterra.

Padre – Father, as in God

Pardon me signorina, dove è Fontania Pretoria? - Pardon me Miss, where is Fontania Pretoria?

Lo conosco, lo seguo. Dò un giro della città e Fonatania Pretoria è una parte di esso. – I know it, follow me. I give a tour of the city and Fontania Pretoria is a part of it.

_acqua santa – _holy water

_no buon –_ no good

Per favore Heidi, devo andare a Fontania Pretoria. – Please Heidi, I must go to Fontania Pretoria.

Non preoccupi signora, questo bus li prenderà là. Non desiderate a camminate finora? – Do not worry madam, this bus will take you there. You do not want to walk all that way, do you?

_Schiuma – _scum

Per favore, per favore, devo andare a Fontania Pretoria. Per favore, la mia famiglia sta aspettandolo. - Please, please, I must go to Fontania Pretoria. Please, my family is waiting for me.

_un bambino – _a child

Per favore Padre, protegge questa ragazza. È ancora un bambino. Se non lo proteggerete, proteggala. – Please Father, protect this girl. She is still a child. If you will not protect me, protect her.


End file.
